


Stay Lucky

by pvigil



Category: Original Campaign - Fandom, Original Work, Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Blood, Cult activity, Ghoul, Sabbat (Vampire: The Masquerade), Vampire Turning, desert mystery, vampire, vampire: the masquerade ghoul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 02:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18511846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pvigil/pseuds/pvigil
Summary: [atmospheric opening/character piece for my vtm campaign]Be cautious of mysterious men you meet in the desert...





	Stay Lucky

Nuñez knew before he had even pulled off the little dirt road that he was in for it now.

The agreement had been simple just as he had wanted it, two men and a quick exchange.  
The money for the goods.  
The other times he had made the trip the pick-up had been conspicuous and mindful, parking behind the old skeleton of a ranch house and waiting in the tall grass should cops come peeking down around the freeway. He would park in a similar place, and he would give the suitcase over without even opening the car door. It was easy cash. 

Now, however, the glint if blue revealed in his headlights could be seen from miles away - a dusty blue sapphire in a sea of brown reeds.  
There was no immediate threat visible, but it was clear from the fear clenching up in Nuñez’s chest that this wasn’t safe. It had never been safe, but it was even less now, and he didn’t know why. 

He pulled up beside the blue car, and waited.  
Nobody emerged for a long time, and he was tempted to restart his engine when a knock on his passenger window jolted him to attention. A pale face, grey and corpse-like, watched from behind. It was a familiar face, albeit pale and unemotive enough to warrant concern, but it was indeed the balding middleman who he had been rolling down his window for and taking money from. He was undoubtedly the man he had been expecting but….

“Hop out for a second.” The voice that came from the man’s mouth was like a robot, monotone and rehearsed. 

“I have the shit man, lemme give it to you so I can get out of here, yeah?”

“Hop out” He demanded again. 

Adrenaline made Nuñez’s muscles and joints ache.  
“Why?” He tested, flinching when he noticed the shine of a gun come into sight. 

“Dave, dude. Rude!” Another voice, farther away and unfamiliar, echoed from outside the car.  
He could hear the crunch of gravel under shoes following the sound of a car door closing, and when Nuñez turned the last thing he remembered seeing was a pair of sharply glowing yellow-white eyes. 

 

When he took stock of himself with a clear mind again, he had gotten out of the car and was now standing between the two vehicles, vulnerable as the hot night wind slugged over the ranch house. “Wha… how did I…”  
“Sorry about that man, sometimes the uh…. meatheads aren't very tactful.”  
The owner of the voice rounded from behind, and those glowing eyes came back into view. 

He wasn’t imposing physically, his clothes hanging off his lanky form a bit and his long curly black hair a bit tangled and wild, but there was something in the predatory glint to his eyes and the way he wouldn’t smile with his teeth like he was keeping his mouth tightly shut that made him an eerie presence. 

“You keep the goods in the trunk? Backseat?” He asked in a nonchalant tone like he was asking a friend where they kept the beer. 

“Backseat.” 

The bald man… Dave... rounded the car again and dug around for a bit, eventually producing a large grey case.  
He flicked it open, and the man with the glowing eyes actually grinned - exposing sharp fangs poking down from his thin dry lips.  
He examined a few of the vials and even laughed a few times when he tossed them back and listened to the clacking of glass on glass. “Awesome.” 

“Look I just want the money so I can go! This doesn’t need to be…”  
“Harder than it is? Oh I think it does my man.” 

“Look, man, I wasn’t supposed to give the goods to anyone but him. I didn’t need to…”

The man’s hands were on either side of his face, the digits frozen like they had just come out of their freezer packaging. “It was good while it lasted, Roberto Nuñez. You did the hard shit and made my life easier. Now I don’t need a mortal loose end.”

Everything screamed at Nuñez to run, but ever muscle seemed locked in place and he couldn’t look away from the fangs and glowing eyes.  
“I won’t say anything! I won’t snitch.”

“Yeah, you will. All cops do. Especially undercover ones.”  
Nuñez blanched. 

“Dirty cops even more so, they think they can snitch and whisper and do it better cause they’re cops… fuck what time is it?”  
The bald man pulled out Nuñez’s cell phone that he had grabbed from inside the car. “12:45 am, Sir.”  
“Awesome! Nobody knows you came here, Robbie?”  
“Please you don’t have to do this…”

The man snorted. “You’re right, I don’t. Well I mean….”  
He moved forward, his oddly cold breath on Nuñez’s face.  
“You don’t even know what I’m planning on doing, do you?” 

Before Nuñez could even think, the man with the glowing eyes lunged forward and his neck radiated burning hot pain. 

The fangs he had only thought he saw were deep in his neck, and he felt like he could barely breathe.  
He tried to push him off, but his grip was too strong and any strength he had was pouring out of him with the flow of crimson staining his shirt. 

For a moment the man clung to him, drinking deeply as the corners of his vision dimmed. When he finally pulled off, he was laughing. 

“Mr. Nuñez, I would like to offer you a promotion!”  
He pushed him over, his weakened body flopping uselessly onto the hard dirt. 

The man with the glowing eyes then bit into his own hand, and a small flow of dark vitae began to run down his wrist. 

“I, Suerte Artillero, extend a job offer to you… full benefits, retirement. The works. You’ve got real potential I can use, ya know. A small business owner such as myself needs to have some people I can trust at my disposal and I think you fit the bill.”

Nuñez’s vision was so blurry he could barely make out the dark shape before him as Suerte’s bleeding hand.  
“You won’t regret it man. Well, you might, but I wouldn’t take too long to make your decision.” 

He let his lips part, and his last concise memory was the feeling of the droplets meeting his tongue. 

Suerte grinned down at his handiwork.  
There was a time where such an act would have horrified him, dredging up old memories and human pain.  
This Suerte though, the one of the here and now, could only see a job well done.


End file.
